


Pop Goes the Weasel

by roseforthethorns



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: M/M, Practical Jokes, Q is so pissed, eulogy, memorial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-24 04:13:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9700352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roseforthethorns/pseuds/roseforthethorns
Summary: Memorials for fallen agents are typically somber affairs. Then James Bond gets up to speak.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Venstar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Venstar/gifts).



> I'm eternally grateful for timetospy and her Beta work with this. 
> 
> I hope this appeals to all your comedy sensibilities, Venstar. Happy Valentine's Day.

Memorial services are always somber affairs, but this time, Q can't believe it's really happening.

He'd been on the comms when Alec’s line had died, then the additional safety trackers had flatlined. Q had tried to get him back to no avail. This particular terror cell had claimed another life. Two weeks of undercover work and intelligence gathering down the tubes, and Q had come home that night to get drunk and stare at the wall. At least James’d had the sense not to try and speak to him.

Now Q stands with James at Alec’s ceremony, watching as other agents cover the empty coffin with a Union Flag. They hadn't even managed to recover his body. Nothing had survived the explosion that leveled a city block. “He managed to rival your penchant for destruction,” Q mutters to James as everyone stands for the beginning words to the memorial.

“If anyone could, Alec could, the old dog.” It seems odd that James isn't more torn up about Alec, but maybe he's just better at hiding it. It's impossible to truly tell what Bond is thinking half the time, and Q’s been dating him for two years. He still hasn't figured out everything.

As his closest friend and the man who probably knew Alec best in life, James is the one giving his eulogy. Q watches as Bond steps forward and onto the small platform next to his friend’s coffin. James rests his hand on it for a moment and then takes out a small piece of paper and begins to read.

“We are gathered here today to remember the life of one Alec Trevelyan, a man I had the greatest misfortune to serve with as a member of MI6. Not only would he repeatedly blow up more than was needed or take out multiple hostiles instead of just the one required for his mission, he would also often fail his mission objectives. When he wasn't making a mess of the world, he would be back in London doing a bang up job of that here. The man ran late all the time, drank more than I do, and frequently blew me off for one of his many, many, many affairs. In bed, he had all the finesse of a brick wall. Instead of warm caresses, I often felt after a night with Alec that I have been beaten around in a tumble dryer filled with rocks. And you couldn't believe what he told you. His cock was _tiny_ , no matter what he claimed. Alec couldn't have even found his cock if he'd been searching for it. So, goodbye you utter wanker."

The room is silent as James steps down and returns to his seat. Q can see the set of Mallory’s shoulders and knows the man is absolutely livid; the Quartermaster is scandalized.

“What were you _thinking_?” he hisses at James.

“That the bastard’s dead.”

“Is this some twisted way of grieving? Or are you deliberately fucking with Mallory?”

“Can't it be both?”

Q expects the music at the end of the ceremony to be somber, something classical, so when the musician begins to play “Pop Goes the Weasel”, the Quartermaster turns slowly to stare at the casket in mounting horror. Everyone in the room, in fact, turns to stare as the music reaches the infamous surprise moment.

Nothing happens.

At least, nothing happens until everyone turns around to leave only to find Alec standing at the back of the room. “James is a rotten liar. I'm bigger than he is.”

For three seconds there is dead silence, then James bursts out laughing, doubling over and positively howling at the joke. Q stares at Alec as his guilt over the mission turns to anger, and he stomps over to jab his finger against the agent’s chest. “What. The fuck. Do you think you're playing at?”

“Relax, Qbie. Had to fake my death to come home. MI6 had a mole, and I needed James to take him out. Couldn't very well come home to my favorite agent and his Quartermaster if they were just going to kill me here.”

The room is buzzing with chatter (and he distinctly hears Mallory swearing), but Q can only focus his lover’s laughter. “James knew,” he says quietly, turning to look at Bond. The man has the decency to look chagrined now that he's gotten ahold of himself.

“He sure did, the blighter. He also told me your… interest in my bedroom skills. Tell me, have you ever done it with a dead man?”

It’s Alec's turn to double over as Q sucker punches him in the bollocks. “No, I haven't,” he says primly. He glares at James as Bond takes a step forward to see if Alec is all right. “And _you_ , there will be no sex for you for the foreseeable future.” Q stalks off, walking out of the building and leaving James and Alec to stare after him.

“So… does that mean our Valentine's plans are off?”

“We have a few weeks. We can bring him around by then.”

“We better. I'm not passing up a chance to share both of you.”

“Don't you think this all was a bit much?”

“Oi, I did it for the laugh.”

“Prick.”

“Wanker.”

“Come on, we better go after him.”

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews and comments are always welcome and appreciated.


End file.
